


Courting Your Plus One

by MissMonsters2



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22874857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMonsters2/pseuds/MissMonsters2
Summary: [From Tumblr]Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader/OFCPrompt: Can you pretend to be my partner for my friend’s wedding? I told them I’d have a plus one.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader, natasha Romanoff/reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 165
Collections: Natasha Romanoff Reader Inserts





	Courting Your Plus One

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Thank you for sending in bby 💘 We are here for a good time. 
> 
> Warnings: Y’all know you love this trope.

Sometimes you imagine life (your life, specifically) being one big giant clusterfuck of a disaster.

Because you’re not sure how else to explain how you got invited to your friend and your ex’s wedding. 

Because, yes, they’re fucking marrying each other. 

It honestly felt like you were being punched in the gut.

You would say your friendship with your friend is very complicated. It’s based more on competition and envy than anything.

And not to brag, but you’ve pretty much have outdone for your friend in every aspect of life effortlessly.

Except you lost the girl.

Or more accurately, she left you.

Because you made it very clear to both of them that the people you date are not a prize to be won, and you don’t chase people.

That being said, maybe if you went to therapy while in your childhood, you would grow up to be a well-adjusted adult who didn’t believe that in a breakup, there's always a winner and a loser.

And by God, you refuse to be the loser in this breakup. 

“Yes, I’m really bringing a plus one,” you tell your friend. After skillfully avoiding any questions that would require you to disclose any details of this ‘plus one,’ you needed to actually find a plus one.

But this was more than just a plus one.

You needed to find someone who was hotter and better than your ex in every way. 

“I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or insulted.”

“Neither, Nat. Please just do me this favor, so I’m not humiliated twice by the two of them,” you beg.

“Hasn’t it been 4 months now? I doubt they will antagonize you since they’ve seemed to move on and all,” Natasha looks at you with a brow raised. Natasha isn’t a stranger to these two, but she’s not really sure she’s up to go along with this insane idea.

And despite the biting words, you show Natasha a text you received just hours after opening the wedding invitation.

_Hey, with the history and all, we totally understand if you don’t want to come to celebrate our wedding._

“Wow,” Natasha whistles.

“Yes,” you agree, putting your phone away.

“They really said that,” Natasha comments while nodding her head and pursing her lips.

“They did, so please pretend to my girlfriend and attend this wedding with me. I don’t want to rub it in their face, but I refuse to be alone.”

“I just want to point out you actually have nothing to rub in their face.”

“Nat.”

She sighs.

“Fine,” she grumbles, “I’ll go, mostly for the free meal and drinks I’m going to get out of this, but you owe me big time for this.”

You sigh in relief, the stress partially leaving you. You’re thankful to have a friend like Natasha. You were friends throughout university and even were roommates for a while. Granted, you didn’t get to see each other often now with the fact she travels a lot for work, but it seems like she’s finally settling in the city for a while.

“So, what day is it?” Natasha asks while sipping her coffee, swinging her legs.

“So…it’s out of town, and it’s two days and one night,” you smile sheepishly.

“For fuck sakes.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The wedding comes faster than you’re ready for, and you’ve got the jitters as you adjust your one-piece jumpsuit.

Natasha picks you up, looking glorious in her dress, and for a second, your nerves calm as you take a deep breath.

“You look beautiful,” you compliment to Natasha who merely smirks. 

“Nervous?” Natasha asks as she pulls out of your driveway and heads to the airport with no rush.

“I don’t know if I would call it nervous as more of I really hope there are no incidents,” you huff, 

“Hopefully, this will all go smoothly, and we just eat and drink ourselves into oblivion.”

“What about dancing?” Natasha asks.

“For the sake of your feet, we 

better not,” you half-joke.

Natasha lets out a burst of laughter, and you lick your lips at the sound. 

“So? What’s the plan?” Natasha looks over to you briefly before turning her eyes back on the road.

“Plan?” You hum.

Natasha looks back with a raise of her brow at you.

“What? You just want to wing it when people inevitably ask us how we met and started dating?”

“Honestly, this is already stressful enough, I would prefer to not lie more than we have to. I’ve seen enough movies to know that’s how you get fucked later. Everyone knows we’ve been friends forever. Let’s just say we developed feelings, and then I asked you out.”

“What if I want to be the one who asked you out?” Natasha frowns.

“Then you can be the one who asked me out…?”

“No, it’s okay. I would rather you ask me out.”

“Natasha, I’ll fucking strangle you,” you huff.

“Not my kink,” Natasha then looks at you and smirks, “…Well.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You’re trying to not seem twitchy when your plane arrives in Hawaii, and you head straight to the venue. 

Other guests have started to pour in, but you don’t see the couple of the hour.

Natasha slides her hand into yours easily, and you’re having a fleeting thought about how your hands fit together well. Her hand is soft, a little cold, but you don’t mind because your hands are too warm.

“Relax,” she whispers, and you nod.

You’re thankful that they decided to have the ceremony and the reception right after, both at the same venue. You can’t imagine trying to stretch this entire day out.

You grab champagne glasses and pass one to Natasha, who hums in thanks.

A couple people come up to say hi to you and fawn over how beautiful Natasha is and how you met. It’s going well so far. Thankfully, no one has actually asked about how you’re feeling about this entire wedding, or how brave (or stupid) you are to come. 

At least to your face. 

You already know people are whispering behind your back.

You take your seat with Natasha, and the second you hear the songs playing, you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes so fucking far back into your head because it’s literally the same playlist you shared with your ex when you were dating her. 

This has to be some new level of pettiness, right?

Natasha seems to recognize the songs right away. After all, she had been the one to listen to it first to give her opinion before you sent it to your ex. She looks over at you and places her hand on top.

The touch grabs you out of your thoughts as you turn to look at her for a moment. You’re reminded to take a deep breath as you turn your hand over to lace your fingers together.

You wish you were a little drunker when the bride comes out, and they say their vows, but your motto is that it could always be worse. 

You hear Natasha clear her throat, and you look at her curiously.

She’s grinning at you mischievously, and then your phone buzzes.

 **Nat:** _Let’s play a game. Every time she looks at you, you owe me a dance. Every time he looks at you, I’ll buy you coffee when we’re back._

 **You:** _Why? Because you don’t want to be able to walk anymore?_

Nat rolls her eyes at you, unable to hide the small smile on her lips.

 **Nat** : _Surely you can’t be worse than when we were in university._

 **You:** _Debatable, but I’ll play along. It’s your toes._

Putting your phone away, Natasha smirks at you as you turn your head up to face the front.

It’s easier to drown out the officiant and the couple’s vows when you’re trying to focus and keep count of how many times the couple looks at you.

By the time they kiss, Natasha’s got you beat by 7 looks. 

And in total, you owe her 62 dances.

“Alright, if we just continue to dance for about 3 hours straight, I’ll have paid my debt,” you say, causing Natasha to laugh.

It’s probably improbable you’ll be able to give Natasha 62 dances, even if it’s over the course of two days, but you’re just happy you got through the ceremony. 

You move into the resort, snacking on hors-d'œuvre and wine while you chat with Natasha.

“I have to give it to them, the food is good. And, it’s an open bar, nothing can beat that,” Natasha says as she’s already on her third glass of wine. 

“Your standards for a wedding is incredibly low,” you shake your head at her, even if you do agree the food is not bad.

“Are you offering to show me better? What? Do you need a fake wife now?” Natasha teases you.

“Oh, would you be a dear and marry me then?” You blink innocently at her before grabbing her hand, “C'mon, I think the officiant might still be here.”

You tug her hand a little, but Natasha tugs back to keep you in place.

“Alright, funny face, that’s enough. If you think you can marry me after three glasses of wine…you are absolutely right, let’s go,” Natasha tugs you this time, and you let out a burst of laughter before tugging her hand back.

And then you see from the corner of your eye the newlyweds coming up to you, and you wait with bated breath.

“Wow, it’s so good to see you, you look good,” the bride comes in to swoop you into a hug, and you’re almost taken aback at the familiar smell of honey and peaches.

“Hey, Vanessa,” you breathe out, forcing a smile, “Congratulations, you look beautiful.”

Vanessa laughs, clinging onto you a little too long when the groom sweeps him.

“Derek,” you greet, “congratulations.”

You don’t say anything more because the second you look at them together, you’re reminded that he went after her while you were still dating and that she did leave you for him.

He smiles at you, a little smug, as he shakes your hand and pulls you in to slap you on your back for a greeting.

“Thanks!” He enthusiastically says, “So, you brought Natasha. Why didn’t you just say so over the phone?”

Derek goes into hug Natasha, who gives him a light smile and a weak hug in return.

“Thought it’d be a nice surprise,” you reply, wrapping your arm around Natasha’s waist as she settles into your side.

“Natasha, huh,” Vanessa eyes the redhead in your arm. “How long?”

Okay, so maybe Natasha was a sore spot when you were dating Vanessa. She always complained about how you spent too much time with Natasha, even when she wasn’t living in the city.

You’re too lost in that Natasha has to be the one to answer.

“Well, it’s pretty new, actually. As you know, we spend a lot of time together, and I don’t know. The timing seemed just right that she confessed to me, it was really romantic,” Natasha says, turning to look at you with a soft smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

You also noticed the biting mark about how you spend a lot of time together because Vanessa smiles contritely at the comment.

“That’s great,” Vanessa says offhandedly while she grabs her husband’s hand. “Well, we gotta keep making rounds, but we’ll catch up with you later.”

With a little wave, the couple flitters off, and you feel like you can let out a sigh of relief.

“I always forget how wonderful of an actress you are,” you turn to Natasha, your hand still on her waist as you smile thankfully at her.

“Yeah, imagine all the practice I got scaring off your one night stands in university,” Natasha retorts back at you, and you look to the side, pretending you didn’t hear that as Natasha laughs and slaps you playfully.

“C'mon, let’s find the other food and refill your glass,” You smile as you pull her along. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You leave your fake girlfriend for not even two minutes to find her the stupid hors-d'œuvre that had bacon wrapped around something.

You come back to find some dude hovering over your girlfriend like he’s a fucking vulture.

It reminds you of back in university when you’d be studying in the library with Natasha, just enjoying the quiet time together with the occasional banter. 

And then some stupid jock, or someone from the student council, or whoever Natasha was dating at the time would come and interrupt. 

You stalk up to the two, catching the end sentence about how the guy has a yacht he would love to take Natasha on.

"Hey,“ you interrupt, a fake smile on your face, "Sorry it took so long, I basically had to fight another woman for these, so you should probably eat them all now before she finds us.”

Natasha laughs, giving you a smile as she beings to eat the appetizers.

“Who’s this?” You ask, looking over at the guy.

Natasha looks over at the gentleman, blinking as she had definitely forgotten his name.

“Lentle?” She said, her tone rising at the end at the apparent guess.

“Leonard,” he introduces himself with an unoffended smile.

“Well, _Lentle_ , thanks for keeping my girlfriend company,” you smile with a nod, and the guy gets the clear sign and books it out of there.

You turn to Natasha.

“I leave you for not even two minutes, and you’ve got yacht offers,” you tease her.

“I know, so lame, right?” Natasha licks her lips. “Yacht offers were only cool in university.”

“And what? You’ve traded in yacht offers for dances that will end in your toes being broken? I think you’ve got it backwards, sweetheart.”

Natasha laughs as she finishes the last bacon appetizer. 

“Oh, you don’t know how priceless your dancing is.”

“Just for that, I’m taking three dances off my debt,” you stick your tongue out at her while Natasha rolls her eyes playfully.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This was only asking for trouble.

Natasha knew that.

She’s not entirely unused to it. Living in a dorm with you while in university gave her plenty of opportunities where she had to pretend to be your scandalized girlfriend to scare off your one night stands.

But you were never there when those girls came knocking at the door.

She never had to hold your hand, gaze lovingly at you, potentially have to kiss you.

Natasha had been very careful throughout the entire time she had known you. She never made sure to cross any lines that she couldn’t come back from.

Especially when you’ve had too many drinks and had a bad habit of kissing whoever might be too close to you back in the day.

It was necessary for Natasha to survive. 

Because she was in love with you.

And she still is.

But you had never indicated to her that you were interested in her in any other way than a friend. And so, she settled into a good place where she could be just your friend.

But this was threatening all of that. Natasha knew she should’ve said no when you came to her with this odd request, but you had looked so desperate and beat up that Natasha couldn’t say no. 

When you were dating Vanessa, that was probably the worst time in Natasha’s life. You were so obviously enamored with Vanessa, even if you did not admit it. 

Natasha had to deal with all the same intricacies of you dating her. Like helping you with the first date, listen to the playlist you made her and had to listen to you talk about Vanessa.

Nevermind when Vanessa left you for Derek. 

That might’ve tested Natasha’s limit to the edge.

Now, she was standing with you at the bar, grabbing drinks as you held her hand, swinging it back and forth with a smile.

The dinner reception would be soon as the catering team started setting the tables and bringing food out.

“Does swinging our hands back and forth count as a dance?” You ask, and Natasha rolls her eyes over to you.

“Don’t think you can escape a single dance,” Natasha tells you, and you sigh dramatically.

Natasha can see Vanessa occasionally looking your way, and Natasha has to tell herself that being in your personal bubble, and brushing your hair behind your ear is justified now.

She can do those things.

Even if it’s fake.

The reception is more boring than Natasha would like. Just people sharing toasts about how wonderful Derek is, and how in love they are. Natasha puts a lot of effort into distracting you.

And when the dinner comes to an end, the dancing begins. 

The couple shares their first dance together, and also dance with their parents.

The sun is setting, and when the floor opens up, Natasha is immediately dragging you onto the dance floor.

Your hand easily settles on the dip of her back as you pull her close, your other hand delicately encasing hers as you gaze in Natasha’s eyes.

“This is a pretty good start,” Natasha quirks her lips, “I remember the first time I tried to teach you how to dance, you look down the entire time at our feet.”

“Yes, you’re welcome for not crippling your toes at that time,” You smile back. 

The slow music starts, and you begin to lead Natasha into a simple slow foxtrot.

“Hey, no broken toes,” Natasha teases you, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t jinx it now,” You try not to look down out of habit. Sure, over the years, you’ve gotten better at dancing, but it still wasn’t your favorite activity. You still turn it down if given a chance.

After an hour into dancing, taking the occasional break in between, you need a break.

“Nat,” You huff, “I don’t think I’ll be able to complete 62 dances with you. Can we convert dances into something else? How about drinks? I can get you drinks.”

Natasha starts chuckling, “We’ll see. I feel like you still have some dance left in you. C'mon, this is such a classic dance song.”

Guests around you are wasted as they sway around on the dance floor. Derek has his tie around his head as he’s goofing around with his buddies.

The dance is different this time. Natasha pulls you close, flush against her, and you’re not sure if it’s all the drinks you’ve had, but it feels different.

Her hands settle around your neck, her leg slightly in between your own.

And then she grinds to the beat of the music.

The feeling makes your breath hitch initially, and you see Natasha smirk subtly. Your hands automatically fly to her hips as you match her rhythm. 

Natasha’s face is close. Close enough that you can feel her breath on your lips. 

You swallow. 

Somewhere in your mind, you’re trying to remind yourself that Natasha is a friend. 

She’s always been.

But tonight, you feel like she might cross a line that you didn’t know existed between you two.

As quick as a fleeting thought to Kiss Natasha comes, she spins in your arms, back pressed against your front as she continues to sway and grind. 

Your hand slide over her stomach, and you’re not sure what’s happening. 

The song slowly comes to an end, going into a slow dance song, and you have a fleeting thought the DJ sucks.

Natasha turns back around, looking at you, and she’s leaning in, and your heart is thudding, and you think the air is leaving your lungs, and–

“Hey.”

The voice interrupts the two of you, and it’s like whatever magic was happening, the spell broke.

You look over to see Vanessa standing between you too with a hand on your shoulder.

“Mind if I steal you for a dance?”

“She’s kind of busy dancing with me right now,” Natasha smiles, but you’ve seen that type of cold smile before.

“Well,” Vanessa’s eyes turn to Natasha, “I’m the bride, and it’s my day, I think you can survive a dance without her.”

Natasha looks like she wants to say something else, but you put your hand on her arm and give her a smile to show her it’s okay.

Natasha wants to roll her fucking eyes at how smug Vanessa looks, but walks off to the bar.

She really needs a drink.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You pull Vanessa into an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you as you lead her into a dance.

“You’re quite open to dancing tonight,” Vanessa comments, knowing in the past you seldom danced with her.

You shrug, “I’ve already had about 18 dances with Natasha. Plus, it is your wedding day.”

“I’m surprised you actually came,” Vanessa twirls in your arm, coming back just an inch closer than before.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You challenge.

The dance is cut short with Vanessa stilling, sighing as she pulls you out of the venue and down to the beach, standing in the warm sand.

“Why do you always do that?” Vanessa says, crossing her arms.

“Do what?” You reply.

“You know exactly why I’m surprised you came. Did I really mean nothing to you? Why would you even come here? And especially with Natasha,” Vanessa is frowning, and her brows furrow the exact way you remember them when she’s upset.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“I’m not doing this with you, Vanessa,” you tell her slowly, “it’s your wedding day.”

You turn to leave, but Vanessa pulls you back, colliding her lips against yours.

The feel of her lips is entirely too familiar.

Too raw. 

You put your hands on her shoulder, pushing her back.

“What the hell, Ness!” You yell at her as your brows burrow in anger.

“You didn’t come back for me!” Vanessa yells back at you. You look around, glad that you’re far from the venue, so no one can hear you.

You turn your head back to your ex.

“You left me, remember?” You hiss quietly.

“You weren’t paying attention to me,” Vanessa quiets herself as well, grabbing on your dress jacket.

“I thought that if I went to Derek, you were going to fight for me, but you didn’t,” She admits.

You sigh, “Vanessa, I told you right from the beginning that I don’t chase people. If you felt that I wasn’t giving you enough attention, you should’ve just told me. You leaving me for Derek is not going to make me fight for you. Of all the things I will compete with Derek for, women are not one of them.”

“But you do chase people,” Vanessa retorts bitterly, “you’re always chasing Natasha.”

Your brows scrunch together.

“What?”

Vanessa rolls her eyes as if she thinks you’re just playing dumb.

“Every time Natasha needed something, you dropped everything to go help her. Do you even remember my birthday? You left midway because Natasha called and said she was stuck on the highway.”

“You said you were okay with it. If you weren’t, you should’ve said so!” You argue with her.

“I shouldn't have to tell you that I obviously wouldn’t be okay with that! _For christ’s sake_ , you hate dancing and you just danced 18 times with Natasha!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, a minor headache from having this conversation.

“Regardless,” you finally say, “whatever has happened, it’s in the past now. You’re married now. You said, 'I do,’ to him. What do you want from me now?”

Vanessa takes a step forward, grabbing onto the edge of your sleeves again.

“I–I just want to know that I matter to you, that you still love me,” Vanessa says softly, and she’s leaning up on her tippy toes, getting closer to your face.

You’re frozen.

Not sure why the hell this is happening to you.

But before you can push her away again, Vanessa is pushed back by someone else.

Natasha is standing there, furious as her eyes are set ablaze.

“I’ll appreciate it if you keep your hands and lips off _my_ girlfriend,” Natasha grits out.

Vanessa rolls her eyes at Natasha, before looking at you, “I know you’re not really dating her. If you wanted to make me jealous by bringing Natasha, then fine. I’m jealous, but you don’t need to keep up the charade.”

“Er–I’m not–We really are–why would you think that?” You start to stutter before asking.

“Natasha may have _always_ been in love with you, but if you liked Natasha, you would’ve left me for her long ago. You’re telling me throughout all the years of your friendship, you never thought about dating her earlier? I don’t buy it,” Vanessa squints.

“What does it matter to you? You’re married,” Natasha deadpans.

“And I can get a divorce if I want to,” Vanessa fires back. 

Something seems to stem inside Natasha. A hot, burning, possessive feeling boils in her because she has a taste of having you hers, even if it’s pretending.

And something just possesses Natasha as she pulls you close, wrapping her arm around your neck as she meets your lips with fervor. 

The taste of Natasha hits you _different._

She tastes like vodka and pineapples, and you find yourself quickly returning her kiss. Your hands grab her waist, pulling flush against you, and your mind wanders to her grinding on you earlier. 

Has Natasha always felt this soft? Were her lips suppose to slide against yours so perfectly?

And then everything Vanessa said just hits you. You don’t chase people, but you’ll chase after Natasha. 

You always have. 

You hate dancing, but you’ve never turned down a dance with Natasha. 

You’re jealous, you’ve been jealous. It takes a lot to just barely temper the desire to possess.

Natasha was the first person you thought of for everything.

God, have you been an idiot? 

You distantly hear a huff in the background and footsteps stomping off.

You aren’t sure how long you’re kissing until Natasha pulls back.

She stares at you, and something just snaps.

“I can’t do this,” Natasha says, turning around and walking further onto the beach.

Natasha briskly walks along the shore, cursing herself. The kiss was amazing.

Everything and more than Natasha dreamed it would be.

But deep down, she knew that you didn’t feel that way about her.

And now she had this blessing and curse to remember this kiss for the rest of her life.

“Hey!” A sudden arm grabs onto Natasha’s wrist, and she turns around to see you panting as you chased after her.

“You know,” you pant, “I’m beginning to think Vanessa was right.”

Natasha immediately shirks at you as you stand up straight, sliding your hand down until you grasp her fingers.

“I don’t chase people, but I chase always after you,” you pull Natasha closer, and she looks alarmed.

“What are you say–”

“Is it true? Have you always been in love with me?” You cut her off.

Natasha is silent, face impassive as she always does when she feels vulnerable. 

But you always knew the answer when she did that.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask softly only for Natasha to scoff.

“Why would I? We’re great friends, I’m aware of that. You’ve never indicated to me that you felt anything more for me,” Natasha looks out onto the ocean.

You’re not really what to say at first because it’s true. Throughout your years of friendship, it never really crossed your mind that Natasha could be more to you. 

But not for the reason she thinks. 

“You know,” you start, drawing her attention back to you, “When I first met you, you were like, the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen in my life, the statement still standing true to today.”

Natasha feels her cheeks warm at the soft way you’re saying it.

“Then I got to you know, and you were funny, charming, very sarcastic, ambitious, and god, all these amazing things,” you sigh, unable to really convey how Natasha is.

“You dated all these guys–and girls–in university. You dated the student president, the student from abroad who literally sounded like James Bond, and even the girl who was in theatre major who is now like a famous broadway actress now or something,” you recall all of Natasha’s suitors in university.

You laugh, “And don’t even get me started on the people after university. I still get Facebook messages from that CEO who tried to give you his company.”

Natasha is listening to ramble, but honestly, she doesn’t remember any of these people. 

Because in university, she was busy taking the scenic route to her class so she could bump into you more. Natasha was occupied with taking non-related classes for her general studies requirements with you. And she was really too busy watching go from fling to fling, wishing that for once, you would just look at her.

“What does that have anything to do with you?” Natasha asks.

“Nothing,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders, “Which is exactly the point. While I was busy with one night stands, you were long term dating other people. How can you expect me to even think that you might’ve been interested in me? How could I let myself want to be more to you?”

And Natasha was extremely aware of it. There were so many moments, too many to even count, where Natasha would be internally screaming for you to look at her, see the truth that she was in love with you, all while refusing to make it known that she was even an option for you.

But Natasha doesn’t know where to go from here. 

She’s still in the same place she started with you.

Natasha feels you tugging on her hand, pulling her closer while you cup her jaw.

“So, I’m going to ask you again. Have you always been in love with me?” You hover over her face, breath on her lips.

“You know what? Nevermind, I’ll find the answer myself,” You say before you swoop in capture Natasha’s lips.

The second kiss is entirely different from the first, and Natasha is completely helpless for the first time with you. Your lips are velvety soft, delicate like a feather. 

And it’s hard to Natasha to process the fact that you’re kissing her, she’s convinced that your lips have changed her very existence and she’ll never be the same. 

And when you pull back, you rest your forehead against Natasha’s.

“Is it okay for me to say that I’ve been really blind and that we’ve got it all backward, but the timing is actually right, and I’d like to take my fake girlfriend on a date tomorrow morning so she can become my real girlfriend?”

And Natasha just chokes on a laugh because she’s pretty sure she stepped on a rock, and it hurts, but it’s the only thing that tells her she’s not dreaming as you pull her into a hug.

“You’re such an idiot,” Natasha mumbles.

“Just one thing,” you say, playing against the back of Natasha’s neck. 

“What?” Natasha pauses.

“Can we convert dances to kisses?" 

And Natasha laughs, wrapping her arms around you as her head rests against your shoulder.

"I’m open to the idea,” she smiles. “So, what about the wedding brunch tomorrow?”

“Oh, fuck the brunch.”


End file.
